


Star Wars: Episode 1: The Malevolent Darkness

by Aspiringactor



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-01
Updated: 2015-12-19
Packaged: 2018-04-29 10:40:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5124494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aspiringactor/pseuds/Aspiringactor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A long, long time ago</p>
<p>In a galaxy far, far away</p>
<p>It is a time of peace and prosperity for the Galactic Republic.<br/>The dreaded Lords of the Sith, sworn enemies of the Jedi Knights have not been seen in the Galaxy for decades. </p>
<p>But on the core world of Alderaan, trouble brews. Something sinister lurks in the darkness,<br/>and the Jedi have sent their finest members to investigate. </p>
<p>Little do these brave knights know that their actions will affect the galaxy as a whole.  </p>
<p>It is the calm before the storm. And the storm is coming.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The Modified Republic T-17 corvette sliced through the vacuum of space as quietly as the space around it. It’s engines glowed a solid blue colour as they powered the ship forward. Although, technically, there was no such thing as ‘forward’ whilst in space. Only momentum. But Anakin Skywalker had no time to ponder the intricacies of inter-spacial travel. He had more important things to be concerned with.

 

Like not being zapped by a training droid.

 

“Again!” his Master, Obi-Wan Kenobi, barked from where he stood, against the wall of the corvette’s hull. Just over three heads taller than the twelve-year old Skywalker, The Twenty-Five year old Jedi Knight stood with an impassible expression on his face. A short beard adorned his face, but did not hide the small scowl-like feature he bore. A feature which tortured Anakin’s soul deeply as he raised the glowing blue lightsaber into a Form-III defensive stance and waited patiently.

 

His eyes flickered up to the small, floating remote droid that travelled around him in perfect circles. The point of this exercise was very simple. Anakin was to deflect any of the bolts that the droid launched his way. There was no dodging, or slicing the droid in two. So he had to concentrate hard on the small, metal sphere. He delved deep within himself, reaching out to the force, which flowed within him. He sensed his connection with the droid. With his Master. With the ship. With everything round him.

 

A slow breath escaped his lips as he sensed the movement of the droid, and closed his eyes. He knew that the droid was moving to the left, but sensed that it would soon veer to the right, and he adjusted his blade appropriately, at the last second.

_Voom! Zing! Ba-zing! Ba-voom!_

 

Anakin opened his eyes as a sense of elation filled him. He had successfully deflected the bolt, just as his master had instructed. He spun around, hoping to see a wry smirk on Kenobi’s face, but his heart sank. There was a look on his Master’s face that bordered between shock and anger. Anakin turned on his heel, wondering if he had perhaps hit some vital instrument on the ship.

 

His heart sank even deeper when he realized this was not the case.

 

He hadn’t hit the ship.

 

He had _nearly_ struck the venerable Jedi Masters Qui-Gon Jinn and Sifo-Dyas. The only thing which had saved them from a painful stinging sensation to the eyes was Jinn’s glowing green lightsaber, and the Master’s quick instincts.

 

“Padawan,” Kenobi barked harshly, “return to your quarters. When I return, I want to see you in a full Soresu Guard stance five,” he said snappishly, as Anakin was waved away. The young Jedi Learner quickly turned to the two Masters and bowed low, out of both respect and apology. Jinn, however, smiled as he sheathed his blade.

 

“Your reflexes are impeccable, young one,” Jinn smiled as he clasped a hand onto Anakin’s shoulder. Jinn was a male Human of about Fifty years old. His hair was long and beginning to grey. He wore a taught and crisp black form-fitting environmental uniform. A grey belt hung at his side, holding a few instruments that Jedi frequently used on missions, such as rations and a comlink, as well as his lightsaber hilt ring. “But hold your hilt higher, it’ll help protect your heart and your head better,” the Jedi Master continued as he scuffed Anakin’s short-cropped sandy-brown hair. “A lesson that even the _greatest_ masters have yet to learn.”

 

“You never fail to bring that up, do you, Qui-Gon?” Sifo-Dyas asked as he waved a cybernetic hand through the air casually. Many rumors were whispered around between Padawans about Sifo-Dyas’s missing limb. Some said that he had it bitten off by a Rancor. Others said he had been captured by Pirates and attempted to escape. And even more said that he had cut it off himself, in order to save himself from drowning in a crashed Starfighter during the last war in the Republic. Anakin didn’t believe any of those rumors. They didn’t quite seem to fit the legend that Sifo-Dyas was. Unlike most Jedi, Sifo-Dyas didn’t usually wear ceremonial Jedi robes, save for meetings with high dignitaries. Most of the time, he wore a modified set of Republic trooper armour, with several pieces coming from outlying systems. The armour, while usually white and pristine on a trooper, was mottled and greyed from constant weathering and abuse. Angry scratches cut deep into the left side of the breastplate, and they seemed to travel up through his neck and face. That was where the Rancor bite rumor had started. “Better pass up on that order, Master Kenobi. We’re approaching the Alderaan System. We should be arriving in five minutes.”

 

xxx

“You should be kinder to your apprentice,” Qui-Gon remarked as the two of them traversed the narrow hallway of the republic transport. Obi-Wan nodded alongside the venerable master as they made their way towards the cockpit, in order to prepare for the final landing procedures. “He’s a remarkable Padawan. Skilled. Intuitive. Intelligent.”

 

“I know, Master,” Obi-Wan replied softly, as he unfolded his arms, which were concealed deep within his Jedi robes. “I can see it. I can foresee that Anakin will become a great Jedi. _If_ I can guide him along the path properly,” he said, as he stroked his beard slowly, pondering his position. As an Apprentice, he had never talked back to his Master, never disobeyed an order. But _Anakin,_ on the other hand, was entirely different. He was easily frustrated. He shut down at times. He refused to see things another way. And Obi-Wan was at his wit’s end as to how to get through to the boy. “Did Master Yoda give us any further orders?” he asked, knowing they had very little information on exactly _what_ they were supposed to do on Alderaan.

 

“No,” Qui-Gon replied, obviously as unnerved by the lack of details as the younger Jedi was. “No. I’ve contacted the council several times since we left, but there has been no change in our mandate. We are to protect the Royal Family. That is all,” he continued, as a grave sense of foreboding filled the both of them. They both knew that when the Jedi council didn’t give much information, that was a sign of trouble. And when Obi-Wan looked at his former master, he saw a grave look on his face. The same look that he had whenever asked about the Siege of Dathomir, the last great Jedi-Sith conflict. “I asked Master Vos to contact his friends in the Underworld, to see if there’s been a hit placed on the family,” Jinn sighed as he rubbed his temples, and they entered the cockpit of the ship. Currently, the cruiser was being driven by an R4 astromech droid. But the droid didn’t have the ability to land such a beast on its own, or the clearance to land in the Capital city’s main hangar.

 

“Has he replied, at least?” Obi-Wan asked, as he assumed the co-pilot’s chair. While he was a competent pilot on his own, and was more than capable of landing a ship this size, Qui-Gon was much better than he would ever be. “It would explain why the Senate isn’t in an uproar. King Organa is one of Chancellor Valorum’s strongest supporters, after all. An attack on him could be-.”

 

“Valorum is well-loved by all the senators,” Jinn replied swiftly as he took the pilot’s seat. “He has always been a fair leader. He follows the laws to the letter. I doubt anyone would attempt to attack him through Organa. There’s too much at stake.”

 

“Could it be money, perhaps?” Obi-Wan shrugged hopefully as he keyed in several commands, and assumed his role as the co-pilot. “Alderaan _does_ sit on a large deposit of valuable minerals, which are used for building ships and space stations.” Outside the viewport, the stars began to come into view, as did the shining blue orb that was their destination. A screen to Obi-Wan’s left blinked, catching his attention for the moment. He tore his eyes away from the vastness of space for the briefest of moments, and that was all it took.

 

Their sheep veered dangerously to the right as Qui-Gon jerked the controls hard. Both Jedi Knights let out an audible gasp as Obi-Wan brought his eyes back up from the screen. Were the vast emptiness of space had been before, there was now a massive cylindrical warship. A tall tower shot up from the ship’s rear, serving as a command deck, he assumed. Along the prow, high-calibre laser turrets bristled like spines on a tusk cat. Turrets which could rip their unarmed ship to shreds in a few shots, Obi-Wan guessed. “Commerce Guild!” the older Jedi swore as he banked the ship to the left, avoiding a second ship, and allowing them both to see just how many ships had arrived in-system.

 

Obi-Wan was able to count at least forty ships total. Most of them being similar to the one they had nearly crashed into. But others, about one-third total, were made up of a sphere inside of a half-circle. _Those_ he recognized as belonging to the Trade Federation, and Obi-Wan began to put two and two together. The Commerce Guild was rumored to control a vast amount of wealth. About forty percent of the Republic, in fact. Meanwhile the Trade Federation controlled a vast amount of resources and factories. AN alliance between the two would be a powerful one, to say the least.

 

“Qui-Gon!” Sifo-Dyas exclaimed as he and Anakin entered the cockpit, both looking extremely frazzled. “What the….oh _Karabast!”_

xxx

Aboard the warship which the Republic cruiser had nearly crashed into, two figures stood in silence, waiting on the third, which appeared as a blue hologram.

 

The first figure was a male Zabarak. He was tall, even for his species, standing at just over eight feet tall. Thick, sturdy horns formed a crown on his head, making him look like an ancient weapon. Powerful muscles wrapped around his body, coiled like springs on a landmine. His red-and-black skin made him appear devilish in nature, as did the glowing yellow eyes that burned like hot coals in the pale night. It was only appropriate that his name was Darth Maul.

 

The second was considerably younger. She was a Twi’lek, and at a decade and a half old, she already cut an imposing figure. While she was not as broad-shouldered or well-muscled as her companion, there was something unsettling about her quiet demeanour. Like Maul, she had bloody red skin, with self-applied black tattoos that signalled her allegiance. Her head-tails, which were not yet fully grown, hung down her back like hair, brushing up against the modest black suit that covered everything up to her neck. She was Darth Bellus, Maul’s apprentice.

 

“Lord Sidious,” the two Sith Warriors said in unison as they bowed their heads low, both out of respect and out of fear for the dreaded Dark Lord. “We have arrived on Alderaan. Our forces are preparing to land as we speak.”

 

“ _Have you disabled all communications?”_ the robed hologram spat snappishly, as he leaned forward.

 

“Yes, Lord Sidious,” Maul replied curtly, as he bowed even lower. “My network of spies disabled the communication towers in Aldera early this morning. And we have now jammed all transmissions to and from the planet,” he said, as a wrist-mounted comlink on Bellus’s side chirped softly. She quietly slipped away from her master in order to check it. The bridge crew had been given _explicit_ orders to not disturb them unless something absolutely important occurred. And they knew better than to incur her wrath, or her master’s. “Our fleet will have the planet blockaded within minutes,” Maul continued, oblivious to his apprentice. “No ship will be able to escape our combined firepower,” he added in, with a sense of personal glee. Maul lived for the thrill of battle, and of destroying his enemies mercilessly.

 

“Crush the capitol first,” Sidious commanded from across the Galaxy. “Wipe out their military leaders. But _leave_ the Royal family alive,” he growled, adding enunciation to the last portion of his command. “Their….cooperation is instrumental to my design. Bring them aboard, and return to my shuttle immediately,” Sidious finished with a small sneer.

 

“Yes, my Lord,” Maul replied with a deep tone, “as you-.”

 

“My lords,” Bellus said clearly. “A Republic ship has entered our airspace. No identifiable markings,” she nodded, “shall I order our ships to open fire?”

 

“Yes,” Maul commanded intently.

 

“No,” Sidious growled forcefully. “An unmarked Republic ship can only mean Jedi. Seize them. Have the droids execute them.” His image winked off, and Bellus turned away in order to relay the orders they had been given. However, the unmistakable _Bwa-voom_ sound behind her interrupted the process. She turned, with her hand flying to her hilt, barely igniting her crimson lightsaber in time to parry her master’s deft strike. Even though she re-directed his blow, it still felt like a hammer-strike against her guard. If she had been unfamiliar with his strength, the blow would have been more than enough to disarm her. As it was, she only staggered back several steps, in a vain attempt to earn a small reprieve and mount a better defense.

 

She failed, as a wave of crimson smashed against her sword. Her neck was only saved by a small twist of her arms, which sent Maul’s blade cascading slightly left. Bellus brought her blade back up and around, countering Maul’s savagery with a deft cut, which the juggernaut of a Sith Warrior avoided easily, and grabbed her by the wrists. With a single tug, he disarmed her, and threw Bellus across the floor of the ship like a rag-doll.  

 

“Perhaps it is time for _another_ lesson, Apprentice,” he hissed, with malice and terror in his voice. As he walked towards her, he twirled his blood-red blade around in circles. “Recite our creed,” he growled, as Bellus felt the heat of his blade against her neck. “ _Now!”_

“Peace is a lie,” Bellus replied, with gritted teeth, as she tried to worm her way out of her master’s grip. “There is….only passion. Through passion I gain strength. Through strength I gain victory. Through victory my chains are broken. The force shall set us free,” she spat, finally feeling the weight of her master’s boot lifting from her back. She stood, calling her fallen lightsaber to her hands with the force. No sooner had she wrapped her fingers around it than Maul was swinging for her head once more. She ducked, and activated her blade again, narrowly missing his midsection and twirling around in a perfect circle. Her balance was impeccable as she parried another blow from Maul’s blade.

 

“You have learned much, young one,” her master said, taunting her with a twisted praise. “But never forget who the master is. _I_ am the master. You are the apprentice. _My_ word is law! Order our troops to pull that ship in,” he hissed as he sheathed his blade, smiling as he did so. “So that we may give the Jedi the _pleasure_ of meeting the force, firsthand.”

 

“Yes Master,” Bellus replied, as she bowed her head low, allowing her head-tails to flop forward awkwardly.

 

xxx

“It’s no use!” Qui-Gon growled as he pushed hard against the controls with all his might. “We’re caught in the tractor beam! I’ll burn the engines out before we break free,” he said, resigning himself to their fate. “I’m open to suggestions here!” All four Jedi exchanged looks around the cabin, hoping the other had an answer. However, only one spoke up.

 

“We let them take us,” Anakin said softly, so softly that only his master heard him at first. “We let them take the ship. Think they won,” he said, clarifying himself as he grew bolder with his words. “It’s a large enough of a ship that it’ll take them some time to search it. We can cut through the floor,” he said, as he pointed downwards. All three masters followed his finger ass Anakin continued, “and make a break for one of their ships in the hangar before they have time to scramble security.”

 

“Security will already be on their way,” Sifo-Dyas replied as he clasped his metal arm against Anakin’s shoulder. “But the boy does have a point. If we can make it to a ship, we can break free. The tractor beam won’t be active again for a few minutes. So we’ll need something fast.”

 

“And well-armoured,” Obi-Wan noted, “given the look of those turrets. We’ve got thirty seconds,” he said, as they all eyed the approaching hangar, which was already filling up with small, skeletal droids. Most likely for security, ordered to bring them in, or shoot them on the spot. Neither outcome suited the Jedi’s mission, however. They all knew there was no time for a prolonged engagement. An engagement which Obi-Wan knew would put his apprentice in unnecessary danger, given his relative inexperience in the field.

 

“There!” Qui-Gon said as he pointed into the hangar, “the Gunship! It’s our only hope!”

 

“Aye!” Sifo-Dyas agreed, as he whipped out his long-handled lightsaber, and ignited its blazing orange light. “Move!” he shouted, as he began to cut a circle into the floor of the cockpit. “Make a beeline for that shuttle! Jinn, man the controls!” he roared as the floor gave out beneath them. Obi-Wan dropped first, his blue blade singing to life just in time to deflect a barrage of laser-fire. A bolt snapped past his head as his former master dropped down beside him, and joined in his efforts to defend their position, long enough for Anakin and Sifo-Dyas to drop down and join them.

 

“Now!” Qui-Gon roared, and they sprinted off towards the waiting ship. A second later, the ship they had arrived on exploded in a ball of fire. Only Anakin stumbled from the ensuing shockwave, bt he as quick to recover. The droids, which Obi-Wan recognized as being B-1 Battle-droids, turned in unison, firing their guns as they did so, attempting to shoot the Jedi down before they got within Lightsaber range.

 

They didn’t.

 

Obi-Wan moved with the grace of flowing water. He moved from droid to droid, slicing each one in two with perfect precision. His technique was perfect. He stretched a hand out and a squad of droids flew backwards, crashing into one another. He was emboldened by the presence of the great Masters at his side. A quick twirl and he planted his blade in the centre of a droid’s processor. With a reversal of his wrist, he sliced the heads off of two more.

 

“Come on!” Dyas roared as he tore open the hatch that led to the gunship. “More clankers incoming! Move, Kenobi! Skywalker!”

xxx

“Imbeciles!” Maul roared as he used the force to throw his commanding officer against the wall. They had not performed a rudimentary scan of the interior of the Republic ship. Such a scan would have revealed that there were _four_ Jedi aboard, not one or two like they had already assumed and prepared for. Now, the Jedi were quickly making their way towards a gunship stored in the Hanger. Rocket launchers were not going to reach them in time. And the few remaining droids didn’t have the firepower or the intelligence to bring the ship down on their own. That only left one conceivable option. “Bellus, where are you!” he shouted as he sprinted into the corridor, towards the aforementioned hanger.

 

“Sixty seconds away from the ship!” she replied over the comlink. “I can stop it, Master! Long enough for you to destroy it!” she panted, as Maul turned down yet another corridor, knowing that he was at least ninety seconds away from the action, and that was if he pressed himself. He cursed himself for not having brought a contingent of warriors from his native tribe on Dathomir. Then he remembered that almost all members of his tribe were dead. Murdered by members of the very same sect as those he was trying to catch.

 

“Be sure that you do!” Maul growled as he switched channels, broadcasting a message ship-wide, “launch the fighters from A and D deck! I don’t want any chances taken!”

 

“ _Yes sir!”_ a cold, mechanical voice replied, completely devoid of any emotion.

 

“Master, I suggest we warm up the guns!” Bellus’s voice said over the comm. “Our fighters may not be enough, if the Jedi are skilled enough!”

 

“Do it!” Maul commanded, as he finally reached the hangar. With a single glance, he took in everything. He saw the mess of droid parts that was the ship’s security force. He saw the Republic cruiser. He saw his Apprentice with her hands outstretched, obviously using the force to hold the stolen Gunship back, keeping it from escaping. The strain on her body was very apparent, as was the sheer amount of power she was displaying. But he knew it would not be enough.

 

The gunship was edging forward, ever so slowly, even as the ramp was still raising itself. Again, held back by the force.

 

Maul did the only thing he could think of, and leaped high into the air, drawing his crimson blade with a fell swoop. He landed on the ramp of the Gunship, and swung for the nearest head. His intended target was a human male with brown hair. But his blade was intercepted by a blazing orange one. An older male, with a cybernetic arm pushed him back a step. Maul swung again, aiming to cut for the man’s midsection, but he was denied that opportunity by the man’s swift parry and a quick stab. Maul stepped back out of the way, allowing the Jedi to swing his blade better, coming in with a swift, powerful strike over his head.

 

Instead of doing the sensible thing and sidestepping the strike, Maul stepped forward and locked blades with the Jedi. They were so close their hilts were almost touching.

 

“ _Sith!”_ the Jedi sneered as he began to push Maul back with a surprising amount of strength.

 

“ _Jedi!”_ Maul growled back, only now realizing how vulnerable he was at the moment. He had been too arrogant and assumed he would be able to overpower his enemies quickly. But now, he knew he had met an equal. And while he relished the thought of combat. He yearned for fighting opponents who could match his skill. But he was outnumbered, and surrounded. He was lucky that the brown-haired Jedi had not drawn his blade yet. Perhaps he was afraid of hitting the older Jedi, or the younger one. Either way, he was still in danger.

 

“Anakin!” the brown-haired Jedi yelled, “Now!” the younger two Jedi waved their hands, and Maul was thrown backwards with an incredible amount of force. He flew out of the ship, and crashed onto the floor of the flagship.

xxx

“Anakin, now!” his master shouted, snapping the young apprentice out of his stupor and back into the real world. He saw Master Sifo-Dyas engaging the Sith Warrior at close range. His first thought was to charge in with his lightsaber. But he then realized that he would be cut down in seconds. So instead, he followed his Master’s order, and reached out with the Force. He reached as deep as he could as his hand waved through the air, pushing the Sith away from the ship.

 

He reached deeper than he intended to. He was immersed in the force, like he always wanted to be. Like Master Yoda was always instructing them too.

 

_Two warriors stood on a narrow bridge. One was tall, imposing and covered in thick black armour from head to foot. In his hand he held a crimson lightsaber. Set against him was a younger man. His clothes were torn and tattered, and he held a blue lightsaber. The bridge they were on spanned over a seemingly bottomless pit. They both swung their weapons at one another. But it was clear that the Sith was the better duelist. His blows struck the Jedi’s defenses with the strength of a Rancor._

_Slowly but surely, the Jedi was being driven back. Though not for lack of trying. What he clearly lacked in skill he made up for in inventiveness and cunning. He even managed to get in a good shot on the Sith’s armoured shoulder. But it was all in vain. He was driven back, onto a small tower that jutted out from the end of the bridge. And with a quick riposte, the Sith disarmed the young Jedi, at the wrist._

_“There is no escape,” The Sith Lord stated plainly, in a cold, dark tone. “Don’t make me destroy you.”_

“Someone on those guns!” Master Qui-Gon snapped from the pilot’s chair. “Dyas! Kenobi! Now! Skywalker, with me!” Anakin did as he was told, and slid into the copilot’s seat, understanding that he was just sitting in for Sifo-Dyas, who was a better gunner than he was. Though Anakin was by no means a bad pilot. He was certain that he would be able to fly the gunship on his own, just not through the hornet’s nest of Starfighters in their path. “Hang on!” the older Jedi shouted, as they were soon surrounded on all sides by flat starships and laser fire.

 

“Think she’ll hold?” Sifo-Dyas’s voice asked from one of the turrets.

 

“She’ll have too!” Obi-Wan replied from the other turret, “Master, make the jump to Hyperspace now!”

 

“There’s no Hyperdrive,” Qui-Gon replied sternly, “we’ll have to go planetside and find a ship.”

 

“Are. You. Insane?” Sifo-Dyas asked, as Qui-Gon performed a barrel-roll, avoiding a trio of Starfighters, who crashed into the four that had been tailing them. ‘The mission is-.”

 

“Still our priority!” Jinn snapped back, as he ducked the gunship underneath a larger cruiser. “Alderaan won’t be able to fend for themselves. The Royal family will be dead or captured within the hour!” he said, as he shot past the last cruiser, and the ship began to rattle and shake violently. “Are we hit?”

 

“Negative!” Obi-Wan replied, “the Sith must have done more damage than we thought! Our engines are beginning to shake loose!”

 

“Hold it steady as long as possible!” Jinn snapped, “we’re about to enter the atmosphere!”

 


	2. Chapter 2

"Hang on!" Qui-Gon Jinn blurted s their ship sliced through the upper atmosphere of the planet. From his safe place inside the ship, the Jedi Master could see flames beginning to engulf the ship. Not a good sign. All he could do was hope that the heat shields held up, or they would be cooked before they broke through the clouds.

With sweaty palms, Qui-Gon held tightly to the ship's controls, willing it to stay on-course. He tightened his fingers around the controls, pushing with all his strength as the ship continued to rattle and shake. Not helped at all by the amount of damage the Sith Lord had done to the main engines. Re-entry at this speed would be difficult enough, even with a fully-functioning engine. He was familiar enough with the Commerce Guild-style ships to know their maneuvering capabilities and limits, which was extremely helpful. What he knew he didn't know was how they were going to get off the planet once they touched down. Because there was no way that the ship would ever be anything more than spare parts after they landed.

If they landed.

Sparks began to fly from the control console, forcing Qui-Gon to bring one hand to his face out of pure reflex. And the ship's trajectory paid the price. They began to drop at an alarming rate as he tried to fix the problem. But all his efforts were met with singeing sparks from the console. He needed to re-route the power, from the main engine to the afterburners. If he did his math right, that would give him one-hundred and twenty seconds to fix the electrical problem in the console. The main problem was that there was no way he'd be able to make the switch, get underneath the console, were the access panel was in less than thirty seconds. And he knew that fixing the wiring would take him the entre one-hundred and twenty seconds. There wasn't enough time for him to do it safely. So he needed help.

"Anakin!" Qui-Gon commanded the young Jedi in the co-pilot's seat, "Get under the console! Access the panel when I tell you!" he said as his hand floated above the button which would turn off the main engines, and turn on the afterburners. "Re-route the power, one of the wires is damaged. You have exactly two minutes," he heaved deeply as he began to count down in his mind. He sincerely hoped that the boy had at least some knowledge of a ship's electrical systems. As a Master, Qui-Gon had always implored the other Jedi to instruct their students in basic mechanical work. It was essential for most survival situations.

"Yes, Master Jinn," Anakin replied swiftly, as he slid out of his seat and under the metal console. "Ready!"

"Now!" Qui-Gon snapped, as he pressed the button. Immediately, the ship began to accelerate rapidly as it tripled it's speed. Flames engulfed the front of the ship as they began to enter the lower atmosphere. Forty seconds went by, and sweat began to form on Jinn's brow. Another twenty, and he was sweating all over, until at least the console stopped sparking and lit up green across the board. Qui-Gon flipped back to the main engines, causing the ship to rapidly decelerate and a large, pulpy crash to come from above them.

"What in the name of the Force was that for?" Sifo-Dyas growled from the gunner's seat.

"Minor engine malfunction," Qui-Gon replied snappishly as he once more wrestled with the controls. Out of the corner of the view port, he could see a trio of Starfighters closing in from the left. Their markings were incredibly similar to the ones on the ship they were flying, so he knew that they were hostiles, way before they opened fire on their aft side. "Hold on!" he shouted, "I'll try and shake them!" Qui-Gon had a lot of faith in his own skills as a pilot. They had been developed carefully over the past five decades of his life. And during the last war, he had flown a Starfighter into the heart of many Enemy fleets, especially during the battles of Hoth and Dathomir, and come out unscathed.

But this was not one of those situations. He was not flying his preferred style of ship. He was only vaguely familiar with the capabilities of the ship he _was_ flying. And he was certainly past his prime.

He twisted the control hard, going into a tight barrel-roll and narrowly avoiding a barrage of shots from the lead fighter. That ship was sleeker than the others, as well as better armoured, which lead Qui-Gon to believe that it was a squadron leader of sorts. And definitely not a droid fighter, given the amount of skill it displayed. The lead ship came around in a perfect loop, attempting to line up a good shot. But Jinn was better. Guided by the force, the elder Jedi was able to narrowly avoid the barrage of corresponding fire.

What he did not anticipate was the arrival of seven more ships. He reacted as quickly as possible, spinning the ship around in tight circles as he shot towards the capitol city of Aldera. But the enemy fire grew ever more accurate. Combined with the stress the ship had received from the Sith Lords, it was only a matter of time before…. _BOOM!_ The right wing was soon engulfed in smoke, as it was shredded by a turbo-laser. The left wing soon gave out, and their ship began to careen downwards towards the lush jungle canopy.

xxx

" _Please return to your homes,"_ a cool, computer-generated voice said calmly over a loudspeaker. Of course, the screaming public below ignored it. _"The situation is under control. Please return to your homes."_ Again, no one paid it any heed. Parents screamed for children. Lovers searched for one another. Mass panic had engulfed the entire city, in less than a few minutes. Desperate security forces tried to keep the calm, but they were simply overwhelmed by the sheer number of citizens.

Not to mention the gigantic battle-cruisers hanging above the city were making things ten times worse. Three such ships floated in a triangle pattern around the Capitol building, while smaller transports spilled out of their hangar bays like locusts. The Troop carriers landed around the perimeter of the city, boxing the citizens in with absolute ease. It was very clear to anyone that whoever was in charge of taking the city knew what they were doing.

A few hundred security officers and police hastily erected a barricade along the main street using overturned durasteel bins and a few speeders, and that drew the attention of one particular dropship. It was coloured differently than the others. Strange markings marked its hull. To some, it resembled a skull. To others, it looked like a legendary beast of legend. Others, however knew what it really meant.

Out of the dropship twenty-five soldiers spilled out, all of them wearing different coloured armour. But to the elderly and the scholarly, that was more than enough. The warriors where unmistakable, from their T-shaped visors to the rockets strapped to their backs. They were Mandalorian Warriors. The toughest of the tough. They were rumored to never have been defeated in a war. They were the only warriors in the known universe capable of killing Jedi Knights in single combat.

Two Mandalorians even had Jedi Lightsabers hanging around their belts. One such warrior, with greyish-blue armour had a single blade strapped to her belt, while two more hung around a green-armoured warrior. Other trinkets hung around the warrior's armour as well, signifying notable kills. A Zabrak horn. A tuft of Wookie fur. Trophies of war.

The Blue armoured female held up a hand, pointing three fingers to her left. Accordingly, three of her compatriots swept to that side, and three more veered left. One more came up the centre, holding a portable mortar launcher, which he aimed towards the rudimentary barricade. He fired a single shot, decimating the speeders and bins, and scattering the men and women who had tried to fight back. A few raised small blasters and fired on the Mandalorians, but they were quickly cut down by efficient blaster fire.

The Female, whose name was Bo-Katan, signalled to her troops to cease fire as she holstered her blaster. "Fan out," she commanded with a high, clear voice. "Eliminate any who resist. Fett," she said as he turned towards her young second-in-command. The green-armoured warrior with two lightsaber trophies, "pick six and follow me. We'll be making the run for the palace. Lord Bellus wants the Royal Family alive."

"Lord Maul ordered us to kill them on sight," Fett replied coolly as he slung his long rifle over his shoulder. "The King and Queen, at least. The Prince-."

"We are under _Bellus's_ command," Katan barked back with clear authority. "And _you_ are under mine. And _I_ am under your _Father's._ You follow my orders," she continued with a hefty grin under her helmet, knowing that Fett was displaying many of the same qualities that his Father had displayed before he had taken the title of Mandalore from his predecessor. "Move out," she said crisply, as Fett hand-picked their best warriors. All men and women that Katan would have picked herself. The red-haired commander smiled to herself as the eight soldiers tore off towards the palace, eager to complete their objective.

xxx

"That…." Obi-Wan groaned as he pulled himself out of the twisted wreck that was their ship. "Could have gone better," he said as he rolled his right shoulder, feeling a slight twinge of pain in it. He had bashed his side against the port turret when they hit landfall. Luckily, nothing felt like it was broken, just bruised. And Obi-Wan knew he was the best off, as he looked towards his fellow Jedi. Sifo-Dyas was sporting a bloody nose and a black eye. Qui-Gon was walking with a small limp. And Anakin….well he had something in his eyes, something that Obi-Wan chalked up to the shock of being confronted by a Sith Lord, then experiencing a harrowing descent into the atmosphere of Alderaan.

"Any landing you can walk away from," Sifo-Dyas chuckled as he motioned towards the large gash their ship had carved in the Earth. "Is a happy one, Kenobi. I remember my last visit to Endor's moon," the elder Jedi grinned as he wiped the blood from his face. "Sank a speeder into the root of a tree. The root," he said as he spread his arms apart, "was as thick around as a Wookie is tall. Barely made it off the blasted thing in time."

"It's a day's walk to the Capitol," Qui-Gon inserted, as he looked over the horizon. "Maybe Half a day's if we hoof it. An hour on Speeders," he continued as he stroked his small beard. "This area is fresh farmland. I'm more than willing to bet we can find a local who'll be able to provide us with transport."

" _If_ they're still here," Obi-Wan noted, as he pointed towards the black blotches hovering above the shimmering line that was the city of Aldera. "I think most will be making their way towards the spaceports, trying desperately to get off-world."

"Let's hope they do," Anakin remarked as he leaned against the hull of the crashed ship. "Better to be out in the stars than here when the troops arrive."

"The blockade will shoot down any ships attempting to leave the system," Qui-Gon replied sternly as he furrowed his brow, something which he did often when he was attempting to solve a problem. "Better that they stay grounded until we can send word to the Senate and the Council. Then, they'll be able to send in a fleet." He turned back to Obi-Wan and Sifo-Dyas and continued with, "our priority will still be to get the Royal Family out safely. _Then_ we can work on getting transport off this planet. Or a message, at least," he said, gravely. Obi-Wan knew that tone of voice very well, he had heard it a great many times while working with the esteemed Jedi Master. "Anakin, Obi-Wan, I want you two to sort through the wreckage, look for anything we can take with us and use. Dyas," he said, turning to his old friend, "we'll have a look around, see if we can spot a local farm or small town. It's getting dark," he added in, "so we'd better not linger here for too long. We'll also need to find shelter before long."

"The ship would make an excellent shelter," Sifo-Dyas pointed out with a shrug. "Insulated. It'll protect us from the elements and….. _the tracking beacon,"_ he said, as he pressed his metal palm into his face. "They might find it!"

"Exactly," Qui-Gon replied as he pointed to a rock outcropping in the distance. "That cliff looks like it'd be a good camp. There's likely a few caves for us to sleep in, and that'll make it difficult for radar to find us." With that, he and Sifo-Dyas turned and left. Within a few minutes, they were nowhere to be seen. And that left Obi-Wan alone with his Padawan for the first time since they had left the Temple. _Now_ he was free to discuss the fear he saw behind his student's eyes.

"The Sith Lords," Obi-Wan said softly, as the two of them searched the ship's remains together. "They're unnerving, aren't they?"

"I thought they were all wiped out," Anakin stated in a matter-of-fact tone, causing Obi-Wan to sigh. "During the siege of Dathomir. That's what the temple records say."

"That was their last stronghold," Obi-Wan said tentatively with a small nod. Though Master Yoda had been Obi-Wan's primary teacher, the diminutive Jedi master was sometimes called away on matters that were either too dangerous for a Padawan, or too important. So, on those occasions, Qui-Gon Jinn, himself a former apprentice of Yoda, took Obi-Wan on missions, and filled in the gaps in Obi-Wan's training. After all, for all his mastery of the force, Yoda was by no means an accomplished pilot, or experienced with dealing with the underworld. Not to mention that in the Jedi Master's very advanced age of eight-hundred and seventy-five years old, training a Padawan in the use of a lightsaber was almost out of the picture. That was where Qui-Gon Jinn had filled in for him.

And during that time, Obi-Wan had come to know a few things about that particular battle that very few Jedi, even members of the council, did not. Which was saying something. "It wasn't a siege, however, Padawan. It was a rout," he breathed heavily, remembering the very moment he had bravely asked Qui-Gon about it. "A Sith Enclave numbering at about One-Thousand versus Two-Thousand Jedi Knights and Twenty Thousand Republic ships. It was hardly a fair battle, but the Sith put up a fight," he continued, telling Anakin the same story every Jedi Master told his Padawan at some point. "The Battle lasted for three weeks. Orbital strikes were useless, once they retreated into the caves. That was when the ground assault reached its peak. In the end, only half of the Jedi who participated in the Battle survived to see the end. And the Senate wanted the victory to be absolute, so they broadcasted our victory over the holonet. Qui-Gon and Sifo-Dyas, the only two Jedi who survived the duel with Darth Plageuis himself, were _forced_ to regurgitate the rumor that the Sith had been exterminated."

"But they were," Anakin replied hastily. "No one could have escaped-."

"Since then," Obi-Wan corrected him, "there have been three Sith sightings. One was killed on Sullust by Master Sifo-Dyas. Another killed herself before we could capture her, and the final one was brought to us by a young Mandalorian. They haven't gone extinct yet, Padawan," he said gravely, as the two of them searched the hull of the ship. "Merely scattered to the stars. Perhaps the two we encountered are the last of the order. Perhaps not." He finished, as he found a pair of rangefinders, which had been discarded in a locked box, opened by the crash of the ship.

"These could be useful," Anakin shrugged as he held up three flares, as well as a hydro-spanner. Obi-Wan flashed his apprentice a quick smile as he got to his feet, knowing that they should leave before long. He signalled this to the younger Jedi as he noticed several dark blotches in the sky turning towards them. Scouts, no doubt. Sent to check on the crash before it got dark. Which it would soon. The two of them tore off into the long grass in no time at all, using the Force to augment their strides and stamina. Though Obi-Wan had to slow down considerably, in order to keep his Padawan in his line of sight.

xxx

"Get your _hands_ off me!" Bail Organa distinctly heard his younger sister, Padmé Organa shout as she was dragged forcefully into the Throne room. And he was conflicted. One part of him wanted her to fight against their Mandalorian captors with all her strength. But another part of him realized that course of action would get her killed. Appalled, he watched as the savage warriors thrust her, and her four handmaidens to the ground. He didn't want to think about what had happened to her bodyguards. "I said-!"

"Ease up, Princess," a green-armoured Mandalorian hissed as he passed by Bail. "You've got company coming. Mommy and Daddy wouldn't be too pleased with your behavior," the man sneered as he leaned in close to her face. Too close, in Bail's mind. He forcefully jerked against his captors, earning both a rifle butt to his back and the Commander's attention. "and keep in mind that we only need _one_ member of the Royal Family alive to….. _legalize_ this….situation," he said as he brought his blaster rifle to bear on Bail's head. Bail, however, did not avert his gaze. He was better than that. He was Bail, of the house of Alderaan. Prince of his people. A proud descendant of many wise and powerful monarchs. He would not bow down to such _crude_ bullies. No one in his family would.

"Point that thing somewhere else, _Boba,"_ a cool, female voice snapped as a blue armour wearing soldier entered. Based on how the other Mandalorians reacted to her presence, she was the one in charge. "We already lost the Queen to the initial assua-."

" _NO!"_ Padmé cried out as she slipped from her restraints and darted forward, obviously trying to hit the female commander. The commander simply tilted her head as the Princess reared back her fist, and delivered a punch to the commander's helmet. The resulting _crack_ told Bail that the commander wasn't harmed at all, and that his younger sister's hand was definitely broken. Padmé recoiled her hand in pain as she slumped down to the ground, sobbing uncontrollably as the doors to the palace opened wide.

Seven silhouettes entered. Four where carrying blaster rifles, and were unmistakably more Mandalorians. Two more, Bail noticed, were red-skinned aliens. One was a Zabrak Male, the other a Twi'lek female. The male's black robes flowed down his thick muscles crisply, but there was an air of rage on his face. As he approached, Bail felt himself getting physically colder, and he wondered if the Zabrak had something to do with that. He was very terrifying, after all. The final figure was his Father, King Veel Organa, a man late in his years, with long flowing white hair.

Immediately Veel rushed towards his daughter, comforting her injured hand with soothing words. His purple cape fell to the floor as he helped her back up, before he was forcefully torn away from them both.

"Savages!" Veel roared against his captors. "Absolute savagery! What could Alderaan have _possibly_ done to-!"

"What has Alderaan done?" the Zabrak hissed with a voice that was like cold steel. " _What has Alderaan done?_ The crime committed by your people is simple," he mocked confidently as he paced around the King. Bail wanted his proud father to turn tail and run as fast as possible. There was no way that the Zabrak's presence would end well for them. "Your Planet has stood by and watched as whole systems have become rotten from within. Criminal gangs use your spaceports to further their own goals!" he growled as he clenched his fist in rage, "corrupt politicians sour the land with bribery and lies! Your crime, King Veel," the Zabrak snarled one last time, "is serving a Republic too weak to protect anyone but itself!"

"The Galactic Republic has stood for a thousand years!" King Veel roared as he stood to his full height, still shorter than the Zabrak, but somehow bigger than any in the room. "I am proud to stand by their side, as are the rest of my people! We will not falter before a gang of bullies and brutes!" he pressed his hand against the red-skinned tormentor as he continued, "The Jedi Knights will-!" _Snap-hiss!_ A crimson beam of light stabbed straight out from the Zabrak's hand, slicing clean through the King's heart in an instant.

Padmé cried out in pain.

Bail roared with rage.

The Zabrak merely chuckled as the King's lifeless corpse fell to the ground, a smouldering hole where his heart had been.

xxx

"A Master and an Apprentice," Sifo-Dyas muttered as the two of them made their way through the tall Alderaanian grass. "That's something we haven't seen for a long time. Not since-."

"Not since Dathomir, I know," Qui-Gon replied with a disturbed tone of voice. Both Jedi were thinking the same thing. They both knew that Plageuis's apprentice had never actually been found, despite what the official records said. It had been said apprentice who cut off Dyas's arm, after all. And Qui-Gon knew that his old friend was eager for some well-deserved payback. "It could have been a fluke, my friend. We mustn't leap to conclusions without investigating further." He ran a hand through his greying hair as he perked his ears. He could almost hear something around them, but he couldn't quite place it. Perhaps it was just the situation around them playing on his senses. "Yoda will know what to do, once we contact him."

"The little green imp always seems to know everything," Sifo-Dyas chuckled as he made his way over a fallen tree. "Especially since he….well _got back."_

"You know what happened to the last Padawan to call him that," Jinn replied with a small grin hinting at the edge of his mouth. "I don't believe Kota has ever been the same since that punishment."

"Has Yoda ever told you what he saw?" Sifo-Dyas asked as they reached the treeline. Trunks thicker than a man's torso surrounded them on all sides. The ground was littered with fallen leaves, most of which had been crushed by a large animal, it seemed. "On his journey? He's very closed off about it, but you two have always been close."

"He only told me what I needed to know," Jinn replied hastily with a small wave of his hand. He looked down, and noticed just how many of the leaves and branches had been trampled in the area. Obviously it was a well-traversed piece of land. Perhaps they would be able to find a road, or a sign which would point them to a settlement. "Besides, we have much more pressing concerns. Like the fact that I saw at least one Mandalorian fighter pursuing us." Both men exchanged a knowing look with one another. Mandalorians were some of the toughest warriors in the known Galaxy. And their involvement meant trouble. More trouble than they were already dealing with.

"Yet another reason we need to contact the capitol," Dyas sighed deeply, "to send us a regiment so we can….now _this_ is interesting," he paused as he leaned down. Qui-Gon followed his lead, and found himself staring at a large pile of feces. Not exactly what he'd call interesting. In fact, it was downright _repulsive._ "This is fresh," Sifo-Dyas muttered as he took a whiff of the dung. "A few minutes old, I'd say. And from a large animal. Large enough to feed four Jedi." Something clicked in Qui-Gon's head as he realized what his friend was getting at. They both knew that none of them would be in the right state to infiltrate the capitol on an empty stomach, even if they made it all the way there. And that wasn't even accounting for the presence of two Sith, and a host of the galaxy's toughest soldiers. Jinn's stomach growled in protest of his apparent hunger, as he realized that he hadn't eaten since before they left the temple. "Quadrupeds. At least ten of them. Very large too," Dyas finished with a sigh, as Qui-Gon spotted the beasts his friend was referring too.

"Nerfs," he said as he pointed to a small outcropping, where the aforementioned animals stood, grazing. They were rather large, almost as long as the average speeder bike, and well over six feet at the shoulders. They were immensely fat, which told the Jedi Master that they were well-fed, and would feed them for a few days at the very least. A good thing, if they had to wait for reinforcements to arrive.

However, before Qui-Gon could do anything, he felt the barrel of a blaster rifle being pushed against his back. Sifo-Dyas spun around, with his hand flying to the hilt of his double-bladed lightsaber, until a voice cut him off.

"Hands were I can see them," a young male growled, "or I'll blast your friend here."

"Who are you?" Qui-Gon asked, undeterred by the rifle aimed at him.

"Owen Lars," the young man grunted, "and you two are gonna tell me _exactly_ what the hell is going on here."


End file.
